


Breaking and Entering

by withhishands



Series: Christmas Prompt Fills [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Christmas Prompt, Fluff, M/M, nothing bad happened ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:15:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withhishands/pseuds/withhishands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill: Ian borrows the minivan and texts Mickey from outside his house and they take off to the richest part of town. They break into the fanciest house without an alarm and spend the night drinking their pricey wine and fucking in the rain shower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking and Entering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skay-boss-magic](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=skay-boss-magic).



> I basically stuck to the prompt. Mostly.

Ian slams his hand down on the horn in the van. It doesn't make a noise. Ian groans and swings the rusted and creaking door open. He jogs up the steps and bangs a fist on the door. 

"Hey," Mickey says. He looks around outside and then steps out of the front door. 

"Busy?" 

"Why?” Mickey narrows his eyes. 

"House on Park without an alarm," Ian says. "Let's go."

"You wanna rob it?"

"Not really," Ian says with a grin. "C'mon."

Ian watches Mickey's mouth work for a moment before he looks away from Ian and says, "Am I gonna get shot again?"

Ian just shakes his head, knowing Mickey would give in even if getting shot again was a possibility. Mickey nods once and disappears back inside. Ian turns around on the porch and claps his gloved hands together. Mickey rejoins him a minute later with a heavier jacket on. 

"This is a damn piece of shit, Gallagher," Mickey comments, climbing into the passenger seat of the van. 

"Yeah, yeah," Ian replies. He turns the key a few times before it catches and backs out. The drive is relatively silent, just the odd sounds from the van and Mickey occasionally spitting out of the window. 

"How do you know there's no alarm?" Mickey asks, nodding up at the house as Ian pulls the van around the side of the house, clear of street view.

"Just trust me?" Ian asks. He pushes the van into park and swings the door open. He quickly grabs a bag from the behind the driver's seat and climbs out. Mickey follows him behind the house and up the back steps. 

"Damn," Mickey says. Ian digs through a potted plant near the back door and produces a key. "Shame it isn't summer."

Ian looks out at the large, covered pool and can definitely agree. 

"C'mon," Ian says, tugging at Mickey's jacket sleeve. He turns to the back door and unlocks it easily. 

"Well, damn," Mickey says and whistles. "If we ain't robbing 'em, what the fuck are we doin' here?"

"Living vicariously," Ian says, swinging his arms out and smiling questioningly at Mickey. 

"Okay," Mickey says, shrugging. He pulls off his jacket and flings it onto the closest sofa in the large living room they're standing in. Ian does the same, removing his outer winter clothing and toeing off his boots. "How long do we have?" 

"Tomorrow night, according to Lip," Ian answers. Mickey nods and looks around. 

"Okay," he says again. "Let's find their booze."

The search for alcohol gets cut short when they get distracted by the large flat screen in the next room over and start clicking remotes to get it to turn on. Mickey finds an obnoxious music channel and turns it up, bobbing his head and pursing his lips until Ian shoves at him. 

"You're ridiculous," Ian says. 

The music plays loud enough to hear throughout most of the house. They find a pool table and a stupidly large kitchen on the first floor and then race upstairs. After looking through three bedrooms, Ian finds a bottle of lube and holds it up to Mickey with a tongue in his cheek. Mickey raises an eyebrow with a grin.

"Found something," Mickey says. He inclines his head toward the bathroom. Ian holds onto the lube and follows Mickey into- 

-into the largest fucking bathroom Ian's ever seen. 

"Holy shit," he says. He barely has time to process how big the shower is before he's pulling at his clothes. Ian hears Mickey laugh and manages to take his eyes off of the shower to look at Mickey. Ian reaches his hands out and grabs the hem of Mickey's shirt, yanking it over his head. 

"I can do this myself," Mickey says, batting Ian's hands away. "Get the shower started."

Ian does as he's directed. The shower turns on via a touch screen panel and Ian turns the heat up. He watches mesmerized as the water falls from a large, rectangular shower head straight down. 

"A rain shower," Mickey comments with a derisive snort. "Rich people, Jesus Christ."

"Shut up," Ian says. He steps under the steamy spray and sighs. Mickey steps in behind him. The water coverage lets them both stand easily under the stream. Ian startles when Mickey’s hands press into his lower back before circling his waist and stopping at the top of his pubic hair. Ian can feel teeth scrape across the middle of his back and groans. 

Spinning around, Ian tilts Mickey’s head up with two fingers to his chin and kisses him. It’s a wet and sloppy kiss, thanks mostly to the water raining on their heads. Ian digs a hand into Mickey’s hair, pulling his head back for easier access. Mickey wraps a loose fist around Ian’s cock and strokes him until Ian has to pull away to gasp. 

“Lube?” Mickey asks. Ian nods and scratches his fingers across Mickey’s scalp one more time before turning to grab a bottle of liquid body soap. Ian pours some down onto his dick and then some into his hand. Mickey resumes his lazy hand job on Ian’s slicker cock while Ian rubs his soapy hand between Mickey’s asscheeks. Ian kisses Mickey again and presses two fingers into Mickey. 

“Jesus,” Mickey gasps against Ian’s open mouth. He lowers his head to Ian’s shoulder while Ian thrusts his fingers in and out. “I’m good. I’m good. C’mon.”

Mickey leans his hands on the shower wall. Ian doesn't waste time. He steps up close behind Mickey and angles his dick down enough to slide in. It's a tight fit, but it always is. Mickey's got a great ass. Ian twines one of his hands into Mickey's against the tile wall and thrusts a little unevenly because it pisses Mickey off. 

Ian looks down at his cock sliding between Mickey's asscheeks, expecting to see what he normally sees, except-

"My dick is covered in bubbles," Ian says, snorting out a laugh. He pulls out completely and rubs a hand into the bubble amassing in the curls of his pubic hair. 

Mickey looks over his shoulder and laughs, sounding winded. 

"Your own damn fault," he says. "You coulda used that fuckin' bottle of lube. Shit, man, c'mon."

Mickey pushes his ass out slightly until Ian's dick rubs against a cheek. Ian laughs breathily and slides back in. He throws his head back enough to let some water slide down his chest and wash the bubbles away. The water feels nice, hot and slick. He wets his hand and reaches around Mickey to jerk him off. Mickey grunts in approval, pushing forward into Ian's fist and then backward onto Ian's cock. 

This is easier than the last time they tried fucking in a shower. Mickey had slipped on the curved edge of the tub and Ian had barely caught him. Ian sees the appeal of having a standing shower. 

Mickey comes with a hoarse shout. Ian keeps stroking him until he shudders and his body twitches from too much stimulation. Mickey slumps against the wall of the shower and Ian's cock slides out. Ian thrusts shallowly between Mickey's thighs until he comes. 

"Did you have to jizz all over my balls?" Mickey grumps. 

"Yes," Ian says. He snakes a hand between Mickey's legs and squeezes his balls, earning him a hard punch in the arm. 

They rinse off and put their boxers back on. Downstairs, Ian starts the search for alcohol again. He finds a closet-sized room stacked ceiling to floor with wine racks. He looks through them, trying to find a good one, except he doesn't know a thing about wine. He settles for a bottle in the bottom corner, whose absence won't be readily noticed. 

He takes the bottle to the kitchen and opens about seven drawers before he finds a bottle opener. He pops the bottle open and takes it to the room with the television. Mickey is sunk deep in the couch, flipping through channels. Ian falls into the couch, takes a swig of the wine, and hands it to Mickey. 

"This is gross," Mickey mutters. He takes another sip, grimaces again, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Ian hums an agreement. 

"Wait, fuck, go back," Ian says, pointing at the television. "Die Hard."

"Die Hard?" Mickey asks incredulously. "We're not watching Die Hard." 

"Shut up, Die Hard is awesome," Ian says. He wrestles the remote from Mickey and changes the channel back. "It's fitting. It's a Christmas movie."

"It's a Christmas movie," Mickey snorts. "Whatever." He sips the wine and passes it to Ian with a faint smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just going to keep writing AUs where nothing bad ever happens. 
> 
> withhishands.tumblr.com


End file.
